If You Had a Thousand Hearts
by Gohanroxme
Summary: Just how many,"  it's a growl, surprising and forceful (but she likes it) as a hand passes, then halts over her chest, just above that frenetic thudding under her ribcage, "hearts do you have in here, Yoruichi-sama?" Yoruichi almost can't catch her breath, yet she can, undeniably, flash her signature grin. "Only . . . only several thousand."/Yorusoi, R&R, Oneshot, TBtP timeline.


If You Had a Thousand Hearts- Yoruichi/Suì-Fēng:

_The moment I met her personally, kneeling before her with my head lowered, was when I ultimately allowed my heart to be hers. _

_For this line of duty, I didn't need it, anyway . . . ._

She watches her in rapture, blatantly, _unwaveringly_ in the midst of battle sometimes— partially because it's her job, but more so because Yoruichi is just so breathtaking and it can't be helped.

Her brilliance will downplay everything else (yet somehow simultaneously enhance it all), and she'll end up just standing there in helpless captivation, in awe of her lethality— so fluid in her motions, agile in her maneuvers, precise with her attacks . . .

She'll realize that deadliness has never seemed so beautiful.

Blood staining uniforms. Grime soiling skin. Sweat-sleeked bodies. Death and decay. In the midst of it all, here is Yoruichi— unyielding, unfazed, still so astounding in charge, still commander.

Her resilience is amazing, her immunity, how she can still take charge, remain powerful, despite the devastation happening around them, always happening around them.

So strong, so focused, so undeterred . . . and she does have to wonder sometimes with a mix of passionate admiration and a smidgeon of natural envy . . . how is she so perfect? Shihōin Yoruichi's been described many a time as a princess, a goddess— hell, she's a Shihōin, right?— but . . . _Yoruichi-sama, that can't be all._

_I want to know you._

There's more to her, she's sure; Yoruichi is someone you can't describe as simple— she's a rarity much more complex. Intricate. She can't help but feel . . . that her commander is more than the Shihōin clan's princess, born with a silver spoon in her mouth, more than supreme stealth, more than the smiles she loves, but also feels to be veiling something . . . . She wants to know what makes her so brave, so—

Suddenly, there's a hand resting on her abdomen, and instead of stiffening, she instinctively relaxes as another closes around her wrist, lifting her arm higher.

"Your stance is a bit off, Suì-Fēng," a voice of velvet murmurs in her ear and Suì-Fēng remembers where she is with a start.

A soft warmness presses into her back, and her breath catches, but she still finds herself leaning back ever so slightly. She can never help how her body pines for this woman. "Y-Yoruichi-sama . . . ."

"C'mon, let me help you . . . ."

And she's pulled in closer, the hand on her abdomen sneakily traveling north, and once it reaches it's destination with a slight squeeze, Suì-Fēng reddens, jolting straight as a rod.

"Ahh~, there we go!" Yoruichi grins radiantly with a wink, causing the younger girl's blush to grow deeper, "No slouching, Suì-Fēng!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

And the captain is still smirking as she folds her arms behind her back, legs striding long and deliberately, eyes of gold raking sternly over each of them in turn, yet filled with an underlying _fondness,_ until she comes to a halt in the center of the rows of which they're lined up in.

That's when Suì-Fēng recalls that she's always had a theory. Could it be that Yoruichi's resolve comes from the sun? The sun, bright like her eyes, radiant like her personality, warm like her smile, like her touch . . . ? The sun that seems to orbit around her, shine on her, perpetually bathe her in its light? The sun that, once set, has Yoruichi acting laid back and lax as opposed to spirited and buoyant?

Yoruichi, the Sun Goddess. She could see it, honestly. Alongside Goddess of Flash, because the sun shines light and light is fast, fast like Yoruichi—

"Suì-Fēng, straighten up!"

Said girl jumps, blinking rapidly, and flushing pink as several heads turn her way. Automatically, she blurts, "A-A thousand apologizes, Yoruichi-sama!"

Those sunny, amber eyes seem to grin at her. "A thousand acceptances, Suì-Fēng," says the Shihōin, the amusement rather clear, and Suì-Fēng has to glance around at her comrades to copy their stance. "Alrighty, then, you lot. Watch and follow me closely."

And with this, her right fist flies forward, straight and nearly unperceived, and the young bodyguard, as well as the rest of the Onmitsukido, follow suit. This maneuver is preceded by a just as quick sweeping kick, then a hook kick, which is quite when Suì-Fēng realizes that Yoruichi is rather giving them an easy workout and the least she can really do is pay attention.

However, she does notice the sun illuminating the mulberry of her commander's hair, enhancing her ethereal beauty, lighting her moves, making them blinding flashes of lightning.

And she copies fervently, enthralled.

* * *

><p>The almost unheard resonance of a tentative rap against shoji is ultimately the noise she has been looking forward to the entire day, and when it sounds, her eyes shift eagerly to the door, making out the slight silhouette of the figure she's been so awaiting.<p>

"Come in," she calls, tone instantly sultry, side effect of the random bouts of passion this girl causes to pass through her veins.

Sitting up, she adjusts her single, white robe, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed as the shoji slides away slowly, revealing a small, hesitant girl clad in black.

Her uncertainty reminds the dark-skinned captain of earlier that day, sometime during the early afternoon, where she is approached with a fidgeting she finds endearing, _"Ah, um, Y-Yoruichi-sama . . . can— can I . . . would it be alright if I were to . . . s-see you tonight?"_

She remembers heaving an amused sigh, rolling her eyes, "O_h, jeez, Suì-chan; you don't have to ask!"_

She _doesn't_ have to ask. She doesn't. Because for some reason, Yoruichi gets the feeling that she'll succumb to anything for this girl.

This girl, still idling timidly across the room by the door.

Yoruichi tilts her head, leans back on one hand, and beckons with a curled finger. She watches the small smile (pensive as it is) gradually break across dainty features, all the while smiling herself, extending her hand until Suì-Fēng takes it.

And then small hands are upon her dusky shoulders, warm knees hugging her waist.

Yoruichi raises her eyebrows, grins, staring into ardent grey. "You were kinda out of it today. This what was on your mind, Little Bee~?"

She watches as her words are digested, watches as the red hue overtakes pale cheeks, watches as Suì-Fēng calms herself by moving her fingers through Yoruichi's violet tresses.

"Well, yes, I was . . ." The soft pad of her thumb runs gingerly over her eyebrow, and Yoruichi nearly purrs, closing her eyes. "I was just thinking . . . ."

The Shihōin chuckles deep in her throat, clutching the younger girl by the front of her skintight uniform, tugging her down into the heat of her body. "About me, I presume?"

"Mmm . . ." Suì-Fēng drops elegantly onto her elbows, arms at either side of Yoruichi's head, raven locks tickling her face, drawing pleasant shivers along her spine, "I was wondering about . . . what makes you tick . . . ."

_Makes me tick . . . There's something arousing about putting it that way._

"Yeah? Well, why don't you . . ." She places her bodyguard's hand at her waist; fingers instinctively curl to take hold of her sash, " . . . take me apart and find out?"

And with her obi gently tugged away, the folds of her night kimono fall apart just slightly, but she can feel the intensity of Suì-Fēng's smoky gaze probing her body, and it— it gives her this feeling, this pulling in her heart because nobody but this girl has ever looked at her so softly.

"You're too kind to me, Yoruichi-sama," Suì-Fēng whispers, fingertips gliding lightly over the bareness of the Shihōin's stomach with said woman holding her breath, thinking that the words've been taken right out of her mouth.

She can only stare up at her, blood simmering with lust underneath skin— with longing, ready to just surrender. Because by the end of a day where she's dominating, forever in control, she's only ready to just submit. Submit and succumb and feel and be felt . . . hold and be held by the girl with as much heart and soul for the both of them.

"Don't be too cruel to me, though," she murmurs almost hazily, slipping her own hand underneath the fabric of Suì-Fēng's top, curving her palm to caress warmth of a petite hip. The girl trembles beneath her touch. "Is this going to come off?"

Skin growing hotter against Yoruichi's hand, she stammers, "I-If you—" only to be cut off by her commander's lips to hers.

And this seems to ignite the passion the captain's been waiting for, the passion she likes to just let wash over her, bathe in— her Little Bee's fervor.

It crashes over her like ocean waves, warm in the heat of their bodies, wet in the form of their kisses, and salty like the taste of their perspiration. Both her tongue and hands have a mind of their own at this point, tasting, groping, caressing.

"Just how many," it's a growl, surprising and forceful _(but_ she likes it) as a hand passes, then halts over her chest, just above that frenetic thudding under her ribcage, "hearts do you have in here, Yoruichi-sama?"

She almost can't catch her breath, yet she can, undeniably, flash her signature grin. "Only . . . only several thousand."

"Several thousand . . . ." Suì-Fēng repeats somewhat curiously, and Yoruichi's heart(s) yank(s) like it(they) want(s) out of her chest for her Little Bee to hold.

"Yeah, didn't you know?" She shifts, rising so that her bodyguard is sitting in her lap, so that she can look her straight, "Several thousand— each one of the hearts all of you have sworn to me. They beat for me, and I fight for you with thousands of times more strength."

She smiles at the realization in Suì-Fēng's eyes, and pokes her in the nose. "It's a fine bargain, don't you think?"

The girl doesn't say so. She only surges forward again, locking their lips together in the sweetest of embraces.

A/N: Good grief, I can't stop spouting things about these two.


End file.
